Despite his chuckle, this isn’t just a funny mystical non-answer by a sage. It was much later, looking at Lee Chang-ho’s endgame books, that it occurred to me that you can’t say if a move is good or bad without knowing the territory count. In fact, it can switch from good to bad in a way that’s easy to see.

Have a look at the example. We’ve heard that the clamp at ‘A’ is bad, because it loses sente. But what if there isn’t another place to use your sente? Say, there’s an even number of one-point gote moves left. Then the clamp is one point more than the hane at A, and it can be the one-point difference between winning and losing. Try to confirm this for yourself. Maybe I’m wrong.

I hope you have more of a life than I do, to find it earth-shattering on a personal level that ‘good’ and ‘bad’ can’t be judged independently, but could depend on whether there is an even or odd number of endgame moves. No formula, guideline, proverb required though, you can just see it. While you’re playing. Reading about as complicated as two dance moves, which foot do you end on? A little taste of what it’s like to be on the cosmic stage and be a cat in a box, or an electron in an unknown location. Almost like when I took a few young Korean go professionals to see a Foucault’s pendulum, stomped my foot on the ground, and said, “The Earth is moving.” You should have seen their faces.

Game 18 of the AlphaGo self-played series “starts with a big fight on the right side but you won’t be sure which side is attacking and which side is defending,” says Michael Redmond 9p in his latest AlphaGo video commentary, hosted by the AGA E-Journal’s Chris Garlock. “It’s very complicated, and about a quarter of the board for each side dies.” “Another absolutely beautiful game and awesome review,” says viewer GerSHAK. “Excellent,” adds hippophile. “The game was surprisingly easy to follow for AG vs AG, good choice!”

“Blitz” games are an interesting phenomenon in the go world, often played at ten seconds per move. They do count as go games since they follow the rules of the game, but to me, they’re about as appealing as playing blindfolded (although I have heard of one guy who plays amazing well blindfolded). Actually, blitz games are not that different from playing blindfolded. Although you can do a bit of analysis in a few seconds, you certainly can’t see most of what is going on in the game. Since you don’t have time to think, except in a very superficial way, there are inevitably a lot of bad moves, although I suspect a stronger player would usually beat a weaker one. And you can’t deny that such a game can generate a lot of excitement—sort of like a dog fight. So I can see why some people like to play blitz games. So-called trick moves should be very effective. However, it seems a way to create a lot of bad habits since the results would generally just be a function of luck, instead of superior understanding, strategy, and analysis. Trying to figure out what is happening and how to best counter your opponent’s moves is what makes go such an engrossing game. If you minimize that intellectual challenge, I would think the game would soon become boring. I suppose there are times when you are too tired to really play the game but would like to have something to do. Maybe the people who play blitz games are just exhausted or bored and looking for a little easy stimulation. Are there ever blitz tournaments? You could play a lot of rounds in a day.

After a brief hiatus, Michael Redmond 9p, hosted by the AGA E-Journal’s Chris Garlock, returns with a review of the dramatic ninth game of the AlphaGo Zero vs. Master series. “It’s a bit of an odd game that follows a pattern in these Master-Zero games,” says Redmond, “in which Master makes a big moyo and Zero takes all the territory, and in this game they really take this pattern to an extreme. Master’s got a huge moyo and it can score a big win if it can just make it into actual territory.” The game also features the large high shimari, which AlphaGo has made popular, as well as the early 3-3 invasion.

As go players, we cannot say whether playing the game is itself good or bad. We can only say whether particular moves in particular games are good or bad. To make judgments of what’s “good” or “bad” you have to have a context which provides criteria for making such judgments. Sports in general are a good analogy for making this point clear. Not just any toss of the ball can be called good in baseball. So what about human actions in general? To make such judgments you must have a set of rules and in particular a clearly specified overall goal in which the rules are determined. Unfortunately, there is no general agreement about the ultimate goal of life. Insofar as that is the case some suggest we would be better off not judging good and bad. Of course, people often set certain goals and are then able to determine what’s good and bad in relation to those goals. But how can they be sure those goals are in fact “good”? In order to say a particular move in a go game is good you have to assume a view of the nature of the game. But to justify playing the game as a good thing you have to appeal to something outside the game. So a question is how to deal with people who show no interest in playing go. Just saying they should play because it’s fun or interesting doesn’t seem adequate somehow. We can try to find some value we do share with them and to convince them that playing go will promote that value. Japanese efforts to show that playing go can diminish the effects of dementia are an interesting example of this. The Japanese go community also believes that playing go can promote world peace; hard not to approve of that. Another interesting example is some of the claims that are made about the value of teaching groups of children to play. Go is certainly a very special game. We’d like to say it makes you a better person.

I hope at least some of my readers felt at least a slight twinge at the statement in the last Empty Board (#4): “the player’s ultimate goal, which is of course to win.” If you are talking about the making of decisions about good and bad moves, the criterion is how the move relates to the goal of winning (except in teaching games), but for many players, it is misleading to suggest that they play the game in order to win. Certainly there is a sense in which you are trying to win, but I don’t think I’m the only player who would say that some of my most enjoyable games have been losses. I like to play the game, not just win the game. If we are talking about why we play, it seems more accurate to say that we play to enjoy the amazing challenges of trying to find the best strategy and plays, which may or may not result in our winning. So there are two somewhat different senses in which good and bad come up in go: 1) does this play contribute to victory? and (2) am I enjoying playing this game? This distinction surely applies in life as well. In life, as in go, it’s fairly easy to answer the second question. In life, however, the first question is very difficult to answer with confidence. You decide to play go, so you have some sense of what you are doing and why, but you don’t decide to be born. Maybe if we had a chance to play the game of life more than once, we could figure out what it is all about. In the meantime I recommend trying to play go more often.

Decisions about good and bad moves have a big role in go. It’s often not that easy to determine, but a move either promotes or hinders the achievement of the player’s ultimate goal, which is of course to win. Whether playing the game is good or bad is a different issue. To decide that you have to appeal to some goal independent of the game. This is a way in which go is not so much like life. Not because life situations are more complicated, but because the ultimate goal or purpose of life is much more difficult to determine. So deciding what is good and bad in life is much more difficult. As a result there is a lot of muddling through and a lot of just following along. That’s why in most cases we just don’t think about this very much. But if you want to be able to feel more confident about making decisions about good and bad in life, you will have to make an effort to determine what the goal of life is. Nevertheless, playing go can be very relaxing and comforting. It’s nice not to have to worry about what we are really up to.

On the line for Redmond in this game was a seat in the C League on the road to challenge for the Kisei title. “Numadate is one of the more prominent of the younger players, thouigh he hasn’t yet had any big successes,” says Redmond. “His games are really interesting, and I was pretty sure I’d be facing a 3-3 invasion, so we’ll see that in this commentary, and I’ll share my current thinking about how to handle such invasions.” The game itself is really exciting, “especially toward the end.”

In the classical age of go, players would spend several hours or more playing a game. Ever wonder why they did that? What could they have been thinking about? Here’s an experiment for you: Go onto one of the turn based internet go sites, such as DragonGo, and start a game with someone at your level. After the first four moves in the four corners, spend more than a few minutes after each move thinking about the board situation. Print it out and mull it over: where are the biggest plays, are there any weak groups, any ways to start a fight or disrupt the opponent’s plans, what is the balance of territory and potential, etc. Read out (even try out) possible sequences. Spend some time thinking about the game just to see what it’s like. As the game develops notice what it’s like to not be under time pressure trying to figure out what to do. You’ll also discover that there are a lot more possibilities than you had noticed before. You’ll find times when you’re not sure what to do or whether a situation is good or bad and maybe you’ll even see why it might be interesting to read some books and study previous games, especially those of stronger players. Of course, this will also make you more frustrated about playing with only 45 minutes basic time, but at least you’ll get a better idea of what makes go such an interesting game.

Except for the 90 minutes basic time of games in the US Open at the Congress, almost all official games in US tournaments have a basic time of 45 minutes. Why? Well, it makes it possible to have four rounds in a day. But why not have three rounds or two? Four rounds make it possible to separate the group for ranking the players for prizes and such. Anyway, most players don’t use the entire 45 minutes, let alone the 90 at the Open. Why? Don’t they have anything to think about in those extra minutes? They’re probably worried about running out of time, but perhaps having a ranking for getting prizes and status seems more important. So the whole idea of modern tournaments is primarily a function of catering to a desire to win prizes rather than to play the best go you are capable of? Yes.